A Game of Telephone
by KarenES
Summary: Multi-chapter response to the July Fanfic Challenge: Write a story Including a message and a character(s) other than Rayna and Deacon. Set between Episode 1x19, "Why Don't You Love Me?" and Episode 1x20, "A Picture From Life's Other Side."
1. Chapter 1

"So … are you up for another go?"

"Wow. Don't you ever get tired?"

"Not when you're here, I don't."

He smiled shyly, his dimples flashing at her.

She smiled back, readjusting her robe where it had slipped off one shoulder.

"Well … okay. I guess I'm up for another hand. If it's not too late?"

"Not at all."

He tapped the deck of cards on the table and split them, shuffling expertly as he watched her.

"Hearts again, or are you ready for something a little more … serious?"

"Serious, huh? Hmm … are we talking 21?"

"Blackjack? Okay. I was thinking pinochle but blackjack's good if you're willing to ante up. Hey, would you like some coffee - or maybe another glass of wine?"

"Do you have decaf?"

"Sure. It'll be ready in a sec."

Bucky put the cards down on his dining room table and walked into the kitchen of his spacious Nashville condo, pulling a coffee can out of his pantry. Tandy turned and watched him, smiling to herself at the tidy way he measured out the grounds and the precision with which he poured filtered water into the reservoir of his coffeemaker.

He was a neat man, her …. Tandy stopped and thought a moment, listening to him hum "Wrong Song" under his breath as he pulled cups and saucers from his kitchen cupboard and set them out on a tray.

Her … _boyfriend_? Now that they were both divorced – or getting there - she and Rayna had recently talked about how silly that word sounded when applied to men their age. "So, what do you tell people he is? Your 'boyfriend'? Dear god – _boys_ get up and go to junior high school every morning. There's got to be a better word, doesn't there?" she'd asked, and her sister had nodded slowly.

"I think I'm just going to say Deacon and I are 'seeing each other' and leave it at that. That's vague enough, I hope. Of course there's always - what are they calling it? A 'friend with benefits'?" Rayna had offered.

"Oh honey, that's so crass! Can you imagine what Daddy would say to that?"

The two of them had dissolved into laughter at the mere thought of their father's reaction to modern dating lingo, and the discussion had ended there - though Tandy's dilemma had not.

Of course there was _lover, _she thought now, but although it was technically accurate, thinking of slight, balding Bucky as her _lover_ only made Tandy want to giggle. That word described something passionate, something dramatic - something epic.

Rayna and Deacon? Yes. They might be called lovers. But she and Bucky?

_Gads_ …

Tandy tended to think that term was altogether better reserved for the icky couple in the SNL sketch she remembered - the one that featured Will Ferrell in a hot tub.

Indeed, Tandy wasn't quite sure what to think of this … special friendship … that she'd developed over the past few months with Rayna's long-time manager, a man she had known on a first-name basis for years but had only recently gotten to _know_ … in the biblical sense of the word.

At the moment, her gentleman friend – that might be the most pleasant way to describe him, she thought – was padding out of the kitchen in his striped robe and blue slippers, carrying a tray and setting it down on the table. He placed a cup of coffee on a saucer in front of her, along with a spoon and a carton of the sweetened creamer she favored.

"Well! Thank you," she said, inclining her head at him. "You remembered."

"I did," he said, smiling. "Picked it up at the store the other day. I was hoping I might entice you to stay for breakfast sometime."

She paused a moment, his comment taking her aback. She'd been seeing Bucky since she and her nieces had accompanied Rayna to New York City a few months earlier. One evening after the show, they each found themselves at loose ends, and he'd surprised her with a dinner invitation. That led to lunch the next day and then more dinners - and concerts and movies – back home. They found they enjoyed each other's company and had more in common than either of them had realized.

Over the weeks, they'd started to make a habit of returning to his place for a drink and, eventually, one thing led to another. By now, it wasn't uncommon for them to skip the formal dates altogether. When he was in town, she'd come over on Friday nights after work, they'd have sex and then he'd cook, or order in, and they'd eat a late supper together, playing cards afterward or watching an old movie on TV.

He'd always extended the invitation for her to spend the night, but somehow that had never felt quite right. Instead, she would go home late, making some excuse about needing to be up early on Saturday, or having to get some work done before she turned in.

The old reluctance bubbled up again now.

"Well, thank you, Buck. That was awfully nice of you to buy that for me. It is my favorite. And I … I would like to stay - sometime. Tomorrow I told Daddy I'd be over early, though. He fired his nurse again and we've got the temp agency sending some new girls out to meet him, so …"

Bucky looked momentarily disappointed, but he recovered quickly.

"Of course; some other time. You know, I make a mean Denver omelette for Saturday breakfast. Or … cheese. I mean, I make cheese omelettes, too. Or ham and cheese, sometimes …"

They looked at each other for a moment, the silence growing progressively more awkward.

"So … uh, blackjack?" he asked.

"Gosh, you know, I'm actually kind of tired. Maybe I should call it a night. Rayna phoned me at the crack of dawn to help her plot her escape. She came up with the idea of stashing her car in my garage, so it'd be out of sight, and having Deacon pick her up at my place. You heard about all that, right?"

"What – she and Deacon taking off for his cabin this weekend? Yeah, I heard something about it. Just all week long, every single day, from both of them."

Bucky rolled his eyes and the two of them shared a laugh, back on comfortable ground again.

Rayna's manager was nothing if not discrete – he wouldn't have kept his job for the better part of two decades if he'd been anything but tight-lipped. In fact, he knew far more about Rayna's personal life than even she realized, but he'd never let anything slip that was less than professional or supportive of her.

With Rayna's sister, however, the confirmed bachelor had found a kindred spirit. And he had to admit he'd been letting his hair down – metaphorically speaking, of course – around Tandy. Rayna's drama never seemed to end, and it provided plenty of fodder for the two of them to dish about. This was gossip neither of them could share with anyone else, especially since Deacon had stormed back into Rayna's romantic life in a big way.

"Oh my goodness, you should have seen them this afternoon! Deacon knew she wanted to wait until the girls got home from school and Teddy showed up. But he still got to my place half an hour early and paced my porch until he just about drove me to distraction. I finally got him inside for coffee, and he stood there drinking it at my living room window!"

Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

"That sounds about like it. At least they got up there okay. It was later than they hoped; they must have hit some traffic. She left me a voicemail a couple hours ago with some telephone number she wants me to use for her this weekend. I guess there's no cell service at the cabin."

"Oh, okay. She left that number on my voicemail, too."

Bucky stood up and wound a rubber band around the deck of cards, stashing them in a drawer in his sideboard. Then he went into the kitchen and came back with the coffee, refreshing both of their cups and setting the empty pot aside.

"Well, I certainly hope they have a good time and get some of this ... _stuff_ out of their systems, you know what I mean?" he asked.

The two of them laughed again, conspiratorially.

"Oh yeah, I sure do. Though I wouldn't be too optimistic about that ever happening. You remember what the guys used to say about them in the old days?" Tandy offered.

"Ummm … "

"That they couldn't be in the same zip code for five minutes without screwing?"

Bucky sat stunned for a moment, while Tandy burst out laughing. Then he joined her. A sophisticated Southern lady, Tandy tended toward refinement in all things. So when she let loose with one of her more outrageous statements, he was always momentarily shocked – and secretly pleased.

Her wicked sense of humor was one of the ways she most resembled her sister, and one of the things he liked best about her.

"Oh yeah, I do remember a lot of teasing along those lines," he acknowledged. "I guess … um, physical attraction was never on their list of troubles, huh?"

"That's an understatement. But anyway, I hope they have a good time. And I hope he lets her get some sleep. Otherwise, she'll come back more exhausted than if she'd been chasing around after the girls all weekend."

Bucky nodded, his expression turning serious.

"Honestly, it's been really hard on her, being away from him. Especially right now, when they're..."

"Obsessed with each other?"

"Yeah, something like that. Distracted, anyway. Do you know she missed a cue last week? In Vegas. She's never done that before – that I remember - but this was the second time in the past few months. It wasn't a big deal, she picked up her entrance again right away, but the guys noticed. They think it's still the divorce and all the bad publicity bugging her."

"And you think-?"

"I think it was Deacon, that time – just missing him, really. She's so used to having him around when she's out on the road; she's always relied on him being there. Now, she just walks around kind of staring off into space half the time, with the funniest little smile on her face …"

"Oh my god – I've seen that goofy smile. I know exactly what you mean!"

The two of them were laughing again. Tandy reached over and squeezed Bucky's hand, thinking about how easy it was to talk to this man, who was practically a member of the Wyatt family after all these years. She looked at him, appreciating his sweet smile, and realized he was a better listener than any man she'd ever known. He'd have to be, after years of trailing her chatty sister.

Well, now Rayna wasn't the only Wyatt getting the benefit of Bucky Dawes' talents, Tandy thought - including a few that Rayna clearly had never dreamed about.

"Hey, is there anything you can do? I mean, I know she can't officially hire him as her guitarist right now, since the band's under contract, but … I don't know. She sure would be easier to live with if Deacon could go out on the road with her, even if it's just for this last leg before she comes back for the CMA Awards."

"Well sure, she could bring him along without any problem, actually - if she wanted to call him a personal guest. But she's so concerned about keeping this thing under wraps."

They stared at each other a moment, and then each seemed to have an epiphany at the same moment.

"You know…" Bucky started, but Tandy interrupted him.

"I know – at least, I think I know - exactly what you're going to say."

He looked at her.

"You think we can figure this out? And should I call and tell her, or wait until she gets home? I don't want to bother her."

"Call her? Absolutely! She left us the number, right? She's definitely going to want to hear this. And Deacon will too, if we can pull it off. Let's put our thinking caps on," Tandy said.

"I thought you needed to get home. What about Lamar and his nurses?"

She looked at him seriously a moment, then walked around to his side of the table, leaned down and kissed him gently on the mouth.

"You know what? I think I will take you up on that breakfast offer. Daddy can interview his own goddamned nurses tomorrow. Maybe if he picks one himself, he'll be too stubborn to fire her next week."

Bucky smiled and took Tandy's hand. She smiled back at him.

"Hey, what kind of omelette did you say you make – Denver? That's starting to sound pretty good."

_A/N: Thanks to Rachel Wilder for beta-reading this chapter._


	2. Chapter 2

He opened his eyes, aware immediately of the crushing weight of the hot, muggy air hanging heavy in the bedroom.

The window screens, bombarded by noisy insects, were no help in providing air circulation. Of course, that stood to reason, given the absolute stillness outside. And the stand fan, whirring away in the corner, didn't do much either.

It had been an unseasonably warm spring. And clearly, if the morning was already this hot, this weekend was going to be hotter yet, no doubt courtesy of global warming. Or climate change.

He wasn't sure exactly what the correct term was these days.

He left off contemplating the weather and rolled from his back over to his side, glancing at the clock on the nightstand, surprised at how late they had slept. She was lying on her left side, turned away from him, breathing so quietly he could not hear her over the oscillations of the fan. He lay still for a moment, counting the freckles dotting her back, which was slick with sweat.

Then he scooted closer and slipped his right arm around her waist, sliding his hand lightly up over her abdomen and settling it into the space between her breasts, watching her closely for a reaction.

There was none.

He hitched himself up onto his left elbow and looked down at her sleeping face, flushed with the heat, lips slightly parted. Wearing no makeup, and with tendrils of hair plastered to her temples and her forehead, Rayna had never looked more beautiful to him.

As Deacon studied her, he brushed his thumb lazily across her right nipple and back again, and was immediately rewarded with a low whimper and a sigh.

Encouraged, he began tracing small circles over her breasts and leaned down to lick up a droplet of sweat that was sliding down her neck toward the hollow at the base of her throat. He tasted the saltiness of her skin on his tongue, and smiled.

They had driven up Hwy 65 to his cabin the previous evening, getting a late start and then hitting Friday evening traffic. On the way, they'd stopped at the small grocery store that served as unofficial town hall, community center and bait shop in this neck of the woods. They'd picked up some supplies and left messages for Bucky and Tandy.

Deacon's remote cabin had spotty cell service and he'd never bothered installing a land line, preferring solitude on his vacations. Andy, the shopkeeper, had always let him give out the store's telephone number to be used in case of emergency.

Deacon could hardly believe it, but he was getting Rayna all to himself for the whole weekend. As joyous as their reunion a month earlier had been, having her go out on tour shortly afterwards had been something like slow torture for both of them.

"It's killin' me, this bein' away from you," he'd complained a week earlier, after what had become their nightly phone sex session.

"I know. I hate it too. Though I have to say, I had no idea you could talk so goddamned dirty, babe."

"Yeah, well, it turns out you're no slacker in that department either, Ray. But believe me, I'd rather there was a whole lot less talkin' and whole lot more ... doin'."

"Me, too. You picked a hell of a time to quit Juliette's band."

"Don't even remind me. I haven't stopped kickin' myself over that one."

"Well, you know what? The tour's actually taking next weekend off because there was a late change in the schedule. I thought maybe we could spend it up at your cabin."

"Really? What about the girls?"

"I'm going to be home with them most of the week. Maddie's class is doing a camping trip over the weekend and Teddy didn't realize I'd be in town, so he made plans with Daphne. That kind of leaves me-"

"That leaves you lookin' to pick up a date, huh?"

"Something like that, yeah. What do you think? I haven't seen that cabin in forever. And it sure would be nice to have some time alone with you."

"I am never gonna turn down a proposition like that, darlin'. Not from you, anyway."

"Oh yeah? Does that mean you've been getting hit on while I've been away?"

"Well sure, I can hardly help that, Ray. I been breakin' a whole lotta hearts, just sittin' home waitin' for you to call, night after night."

"I bet you have. I guess I'd better get you out of town while I have the chance."

And so they'd planned this weekend visit to the cabin, not telling anyone except her manager and her sister what they were doing.

Rayna was still anxious to keep their relationship confidential - both because Teddy had reacted so badly and, more importantly, for Maddie's sake. Her brooding 13-year-old had been skeptical when Rayna had denied the tabloid tales about her "affair" with Deacon, but she'd finally accepted the truth. Rayna knew that bringing him into the picture so soon after the divorce filing would only raise Maddie's suspicions all over again.

Deacon was impatient, but he knew better than to push Rayna. Besides, he'd been the one to lay down the law about how the two of them should live in the moment. And he could tell that Rayna was happy to stick to his decree about their priorities: "You and me, right here, right now."

So, since they'd been back together, they had focused strictly on the present, or on their shared past. It was as if they were honoring some unspoken agreement, careful not to talk about their years apart, or about what was in store for them in the future.

When Rayna had first gone back out on tour, Deacon had been uncharacteristically restless at home. But his boredom didn't last long. As word got around that he'd quit Juliette's band, he started getting requests to sit in on recording sessions and appear on stages with various friends around town. He also spent time with Scarlett and Gunnar, his niece still distraught over his breakup with Stacey.

"I just don't understand it, Uncle Deacon! Y'all were so cute together and you seemed so happy. What happened?"

Deacon simply shrugged and smiled, sadly.

"You know me an' happy, Scar - we just don't get along real well."

Privately, however, Deacon found himself increasingly amazed at just how wonderful "happy" could be. Yesterday, on the drive up to the cabin, he'd nearly pinched himself a dozen times, marveling over the fact that Rayna was really sitting snuggled up next to him, her hand resting on his knee, making plans for their weekend.

They'd agreed that they would unload their things when they arrived, eat the sandwiches she had packed for dinner and hike over to the river, to see if the water was running high enough to put his canoe in the next day.

Of course, all their talk was sheer nonsense. Deacon had no idea why they kept up the pretense of planning anything for when they were alone together. It was useless.

Rayna had just put away the last of the food, and Deacon had barely gotten the luggage inside, when she turned and launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over. She kissed him like they hadn't been together in years, running her hands through his hair and up under his shirt, caressing his bare back. Almost before he could react, she was reaching for the waistband of his jeans.

The pent-up passion between them was explosive, and there was no fighting it. She had succeeded in getting his pants undone and her hands on him before he pulled her down onto the braided oval rug in the entryway, peeling off her shirt and unhooking her bra. She quickly wriggled out of her jeans and panties as he shucked the remains of his clothes. Then she wrapped her legs around his back and rolled him over, pushing him down roughly underneath her and settling herself on top of him.

They made love hastily, without benefit of foreplay, right there on the floor, and came at exactly the same instant, their eyes locked together - neither one willing to look away. When they left off panting and moaning, she collapsed onto his chest and he held her close to him, trembling, until she was so still he wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

He rolled over carefully, holding her to his body, and helped her up, leading her into the master bedroom he'd added on to the place five years earlier. They'd laughed a little about exactly how much canoeing they were likely to do that weekend, and within minutes they were in bed, asleep in each other's arms - their foreheads touching.

Now, lying in bed looking down at her in the hot morning sun, he kissed her cheek and swept her hair back so he could nuzzle her ear as he continued to caress her breasts. She stirred again, murmuring his name in a voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her.

"Deacon …"

"Uh-huh?"

"It's so hot …"

"I know."

She rolled toward him onto her back, her eyes still firmly shut.

"I'm so sweaty …"

"I like sweaty. Sweaty's a good look on you."

She laughed softly, opening her eyes. They were misty with sleep but so full of love, shining up at him, that Deacon felt a catch in his throat.

"You're easy, babe. You like everything."

"I like everythin' about you, darlin'."

She brought her hands up to his face and ran her thumbs along his jawline, looking deep into his eyes for a long moment.

"I love everything about you," she said, pulling him down for a kiss. He sighed deeply and rested his weight on her for a moment, before capturing both her wrists in his left hand and pulling her arms up over her head, pinning them there. Then he slid his right hand down her body and reached between her legs, finding her wet and open, waiting for him.

"Mmmm … I love you too, darlin'."

"Hey … what're you doing?"

"Whaddaya think I'm doin'?"

"I need a shower," she murmured, already wriggling and sighing under the expert ministrations of his fingers.

"Nope. You're not goin' anywhere, Ray. I got you right where I want you."

He leaned down and began kissing her, silencing the moans that were escaping her mouth as he stroked her. Then he realized she was talking again.

He pulled his head back and looked at her.

"Rayna …"

"Babe, really, I'm not gonna last more than about two minutes if you keep that up."

"Oh, you're easy," he said, giving her a teasing smile.

"Yeah, I am - with you," she said, smiling back.

"Good."

"But … what about you?"

"Aw, hell, I'm not worried, darlin'. I'm sure we'll think of …_ somethin'_."

He had such a wicked grin on his face that it made her laugh.

"Oh, you're good, babe."

"Yeah, I'm somethin' else, huh?"

"Mmmm-hmmm…"

Rayna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, giving in to him, letting her head fall back on the pillow as he increased the motion of his fingers and kissed her deeply, first on the mouth and then between her breasts, his tongue finding her nipples and sucking gently on each of them in turn.

In no time at all, Rayna was breathing hard and squirming, bucking her hips, close to the edge. Deacon pulled away from her at that very instant, making her cry out in frustration. Then he released her arms and slid down the bed. She looked down at him and raised her right leg, giving him access and groaning loudly when she felt the heat of his mouth on her.

Rayna reached down and raked her fingers through his hair, arching her back and moaning hard with every exhale. She was very quickly losing control.

"Don't stop … please don't stop …" she whimpered, needing him to continue, faster and harder. He did, relishing the way she abandoned herself to him.

After a short while, she grabbed his head and held on, writhing wildly underneath his mouth, her head thrashing on the pillow, calling out his name and God's, over and over. He prolonged the moment as long as possible, then pulled back and watched her, incredibly turned on at the sight of her face, suffused with pleasure, and her body, quivering. Her eyes were shut tightly and her hair, messy and tangled, was strewn all around her.

Deacon loved her most of all - and he had missed her most of all - exactly like this: At her most vulnerable, trusting him with her most private self. He shifted up to lie beside her and take her into his arms, feeling her slowly, slowly relaxing, small sounds still coming from the back of her throat. She turned toward him and slipped her left arm around him, settling her head on his chest, her eyes never opening. Her breathing eventually returned to normal as she ran her fingers along his arm. Deacon laid his left hand on the small of her back and held her against him, caressing his right hand gently up and down her spine, feeling satisfied - and needy – all at once.

"You goin' back to sleep?"

"Me? No … why?" she asked, her voice already groggy.

"Ray, you forget who you're talkin' to here. I _know_ you. Sometimes I think you're part guy - you come inside of five minutes and then you pass out."

"_I_ _do not.._."

"You're doin' it right now, Ray."

She laughed, softly, as he kissed the top of her head.

"It's okay, go back to sleep. We got all weekend together."

"All weekend - I love that. Come take a shower with me, babe."

She tilted her head back and looked up at him, smiling.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Oh yeah? How you gonna do that, darlin'?"

"Oh, I dunno. I'll ... think of _something._"

She took his hand in hers and sucked his index finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed her.

"That sounds so good, darlin'" he said softly, his mouth against hers. "And I got an even better idea for after breakfast."

_A/N: Thanks to Rachel Wilder for beta-reading and to Shiny Jewel for her excellent suggestions and much-needed hand-holding on this chapter._


	3. Chapter 3

Deacon wasted no time in stripping off his T-shirt and sweatpants. He ran past Rayna, splashing into the water and then diving head first, disappearing into the depths of the pond out behind his cabin.

Rayna was more hesitant, picking her way down the bank and stepping gingerly into the warm, still water at the edge, watching the dragonflies buzzing and dipping over the surface. She slowly unbuttoned Deacon's shirt. ("Here - I brought an extra one for you," he had said, smiling and handing over his red plaid after their shower.)

She was still lingering, calf deep, when he reappeared in the middle of the pond, blowing hard and shaking his head, his hair throwing off streams of water and his beard glistening.

Rayna laughed.

"What's so funny?" he shouted, treading water.

"You! You look like a drenched coonhound!" she yelled back.

"Come on out here an' say that, Ray."

Rayna took a tentative step toward him and winced, her foot sinking into the slimy mud. The shirt was off by now but she still clutched it awkwardly to her chest.

"You sure there's nobody around here, right?" she called.

"Right."

"All it takes it one person with a cell phone, Deacon …"

"Ray, I'm tellin' you, there's nobody around for miles, I swear. C'mon now..."

"Hey, just give me a minute, okay?"

A moment later, Rayna squealed and jumped, nearly dropping the shirt.

Deacon laughed. "What's wrong now?"

"Something just nibbled on my toe, I swear! God – how come there's so much algae in here? I'm used to swimming pools, babe."

"What're you talkin' about? You saying you don't remember skinny-dippin' up here with me lots of times?"

"Okay, maybe. But what was I – 19?"

"Oh, I get it," Deacon said, floating lazily on his back. "You're too old for this, huh?"

If anything would motivate her, he knew that would do it - and it did. She tossed the shirt back onto the bank and took a couple of determined steps before squealing again as a clot of pond scum wrapped itself around her thighs.

"Rayna, don't make me come over there and get you! 'Cause it is not gonna be pretty if I have to sling you over my shoulder..."

"You wouldn't dare, Deacon Claybourne!"

To that assertion, he simply smirked and disappeared underwater, leaving a trail of bubbles headed her way.

Rayna shrieked and plunged into the water, kicking hard and swimming out into the middle of the pond, where the water was clear but still warm.

She spun herself around, looking for Deacon. Just then, a hand grabbed her foot and yanked it, hard. She struggled furiously but went down deep, gulping water, and then surfaced, sputtering and coughing, a sodden mass of hair covering her face.

Deacon popped up directly in front of her, laughing and reaching for her waist, pulling her toward him. She was still choking as he parted her hair and grinned at her.

"Who looks like a wet hound now, Ray?"

"Shut up, you bastard!" she said, laughing in spite of herself and twisting away from him. She managed to get both hands on his head and dunked him under as hard as she could, but he came up a moment later, grinning and reaching for her again. This time she allowed him to hold onto her waist as she balanced her hands on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him, dipping her head back to slick the hair out of her face.

"That's better, darlin'."

"You are so bad," she said, smiling. "I don't know why I love you so much." She kissed him wetly, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Mmmm … now see there? Isn't this nice?"

"I guess so," she said, rubbing her nose against his. "Now that you got me in here, though, what are you going to do with me?"

"Oh, there's all kinds of possibilities, Ray. Underwater ... acrobatics, you might call it. You'd be surprised what you can get up to when you're not fightin' gravity."

"Oh yeah? That sounds like fun. You're going to have to teach me, though," she said, kissing him again.

"I'll have you know I'm a very good teacher."

"You forget who you're talking to, babe. I know what a good teacher you are."

He shifted onto his back and began kicking under water, propelling the two of them across the pond as she floated along with him.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Boat dock."

"We're gonna do it in your boat?"

He laughed. "No ... we just need somethin' to hold on to so we don't drown."

"Oh boy, that sounds like lesson number one: Don't drown."

"Now, don't be jumpin' ahead, Ray. Or are you one of those always tryin' to be teacher's pet?"

"Well, I _do_ want to be your favorite pet," she cooed, nipping at his earlobe and kissing the soft skin just behind his ear.

"Mmmm ... you are darlin'. You always were ..."

The two of them were so completely wrapped up in each other that neither of them heard the late-model Cadillac crunching over the gravel driveway or the car door slamming. The heavy-set man in the white shirt, black slacks and red suspenders who lumbered out had called Deacon's name twice before Rayna heard him.

She went rigid in the water, tightening her legs around Deacon's torso and clutching his arm.

"What the _fuck_ is that!?"

The voice sounded nearer now.

"Deacon? Uh … Mr. Claybourne?"

Deacon looked back toward the house, spotting the stranger standing at the edge of his porch. Rayna followed his gaze, her eyes flying wide open.

"_Holy shit_! I thought you said nobody lived around here!"

"They don't."

"So who the hell is that? God - I am in here without a stitch of clothes on, Deacon!"

"Darlin', I am fully aware of that fact, believe you me. Just hang out here a minute and I'll get rid of him."

Rayna clung to the far edge of the wooden dock, where she could see the cabin but not be seen herself. Deacon swam back to the bank, emerging naked and pulling on his pants just as the stranger stepped off the porch and walked hesitantly toward the water.

"Hey, uh, sorry," Deacon called up to him. "I'm afraid you caught me in the altogether here. I was just doin' some swimmin'. Thought I'd cool off, y'know?"

"Oh hell, I don't blame ya, son. I'd do the same damn thing myself, if I wasn't worried about scarin' the critters," the large man said, laughing.

Deacon pulled his T-shirt on and ran his hands over his head, shaking some of the water off his hair and climbing the slope back up to the driveway.

"Deacon Claybourne," he said, holding out his dripping hand.

The man took it and shook it heartily.

"Buddy McWilliams. I bought the cabin up the road a piece last year. Saw ya' around a few times in town but I haven't had a chance to introduce myself until now. I spotted your truck out front and thought I'd stop in."

"Well, thanks, uh … Mr. McWilliams. It's nice to meet you."

"Listen, I don't want to keep you from your swimmin' but I understand you got a lady friend, uh … visitin' here with ya this weekend?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yes, I do."

"Well sir, Andy down at the store asked me to stop by an' give your friend a message."

"Is that right? What kind of message?"

"Just that someone's tryin' awful hard t'get a hold of her. He said some folks called an' left a message last night and then they called again this mornin'. Askin' for Rayna Jaymes," he said. His face screwed up with some mental effort: "She that country singer? Same one?"

"Um, yeah, that's her. She's …"

"Who's trying to get a hold of me?"

Rayna's disembodied voice, emanating from the water, clearly startled Buddy McWilliams. He looked around wildly for her for a few seconds, his face a study in confusion as he failed to locate her.

Deacon tried hard to repress a smirk.

"Well, I don't rightly know …" he called back, looking at Deacon and lowering his voice. "Is it Mrs? or Miss?

"Oh, uh … Miss, I guess," Deacon said.

Buddy raised his voice again: "I'm not sure, Miss Jaymes. Andy just told me t'come by here and let you know that somebody's been callin' the store, lookin' for ya."

"Was it an emergency, did he say?"

Buddy continued to scan the pond, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Well, no …"

"No, it's not an emergency?"

"Well no, he didn't say one way or t'other, I don't guess."

Buddy sighed and seemed to lose interest in this odd conversation. He looked up at the sky and then leaned heavily against the porch rail, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief and gazing slowly around Deacon's property.

"Real pretty piece of land you got yourself up here, Mr. Claybourne. S'posed t'be a storm comin' through this afternoon, they say. Think we'll get some rain after a while? Sure could use it. Break up this heat a little, maybe?"

Deacon could see that this discussion of the weather could continue on for a good long while, if Buddy McWilliams had his druthers. But he was eager to get back to his lesson - and his favorite pupil - in the pond. At the risk of being rude, he stepped briskly over to the Cadillac and opened the driver's door.

"Well, thank you for lettin' us know about that message, Mr. McWilliams."

"Buddy, please," the man said, watching Deacon. After a moment, he reluctantly heaved himself away from the porch railing and walked over to his car.

"Buddy. Right. Thank you very much. I wish I could offer you some coffee or somethin' but-" Deacon inclined his head back to the pond, which still seemed mysteriously empty.

"Oh, no, no, no … don't you worry about me. We'll have ourselves a nice long visit up t'my place sometime soon ... when you don't have company. Y'all have a great … swim," Buddy said as he lowered himself into the car, which lurched under his weight. He started the engine and backed out of the driveway, waving as he drove off.

"Is he gone?" Rayna called, after a moment.

"Yup. I'm comin' right back in," Deacon said, heading toward the pond.

But Rayna was already clambering out onto the bank and picking up his plaid shirt, a worried look on her face.

"Whatcha doin', darlin'?"

"You heard him, Deacon! Someone's trying to get a hold of me. Something must be wrong. Maybe one of the girls is sick or …" Rayna's voice trailed off as she hurried past him and climbed the porch stairs two at a time, disappearing into the bedroom of the cabin.

"Ray, there's nothin' wrong …" Deacon said, sighing and following her inside. She went straight for her suitcase, rummaging around in it for some clothes.

"Rayna …"

"We need to get into town right away, babe," she said, pulling out jeans, a blouse and her underwear and heading into the bathroom, where she brushed out her hair and twisted it up onto her head, clipping it in place. "Who knows what the hell's going on at home. God, it's always _something_ with kids! I'm worried."

They dressed hastily and climbed into Deacon's truck. The drive into town only took a few minutes, but it felt like forever to Rayna, who had pulled a baseball cap and sunglasses on as they left the cabin. She alternated between chewing on her cuticles and tapping her fingers on the dashboard. Deacon could see that she was letting her imagination run wild. He reached over and took her hand.

"Ray, I promise you, everything's okay. You got no cause to panic."

"How do you know that, Deacon?! What if Maddie got hurt on her camping trip? What if Daddy's had some kind of relapse – or worse? Jesus, I _knew_ Daphne was getting a sniffle before I left ..."

"Rayna ..."

"You heard that man - whoever's been calling has been trying to get a hold of me since last night! I thought you said they'd send somebody over right away if I got a phone call."

Rayna's tone was growing increasingly frantic and Deacon could see that she was working herself up into a state - and probably, he thought, for absolutely no reason.

"Hey, Ray, slow down, darlin'. Let's just get to the bottom of this."

She shook her head, looking out the windshield, and sighed, biting her lower lip.

"I probably shouldn't even be here, Deacon. I don't know what I was thinking, leaving town, leaving my kids - and not telling anyone. Not even telling Teddy where I was going-"

"Teddy!? What the hell's he got to do with this, Ray?"

Deacon was getting annoyed, but he took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Listen, darlin', no matter what's goin' on, you're gonna be all right, okay? I'm here with you."

She looked over at him, her eyes filling with tears, and squeezed his hand as he pulled into the parking lot in front of the store. Rayna was opening the door and jumping down from the truck before he fully stopped. By the time he got into the store, she was at the back counter, the telephone receiver at her ear.

"Hey, Andy," Deacon said, waving at the sandy-haired, thirty-something shopkeeper, who was stocking the shelves with canned goods. "Thanks for passin' along that message, man."

"Hey, Deacon. No problem. Buddy said he was goin' by your place anyway. Your girlfriend seems kinda upset, though. Everything okay?"

"Oh … she's just worried about her kids, is all. Afraid somethin's wrong at home."

Andy nodded and went back to his cans. Deacon walked back to where Rayna was standing, her brow furrowed in consternation, her foot tapping the wooden floor impatiently as she waited for her call to go through.

"Bucky? Hey. It's me. What's up?"

Bucky. Well that about figured, Deacon thought.

"Everything's okay, then? And the girls? Oh. Well, it's just that you kinda scared the hell outta me, babe. Oh, really - she did? Yeah, say hi to her for me."

Rayna put her hand over the receiver and looked at Deacon.

"It's Bucky. Tandy's with him. She spent the night at his place," she said, smiling and raising her eyebrows as she delivered this news.

"What's goin' on, Ray? Is anything wrong?"

She shook her head and turned her attention back to the call.

"Yeah, Deacon says hey, Bucky. So what's goin' on?"

Rayna nodded, quickly growing absorbed in her conversation.

Deacon sighed. "So you mean nothin's wrong at all?"

Rayna looked at him and covered the mouthpiece again.

"No, everything's fine, babe. He just wants to talk to me about something."

Deacon shook his head and walked away, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. Unbelievable. Not even 24 hours in and their weekend was already being interrupted by Rayna's manager. Didn't that just about figure?

He strolled the aisles for a while, getting increasingly frustrated as he half-listened to Rayna's chatter. Finally, he drifted back over to her and tapped her arm. She had her head turned away, listening intently to Bucky on the other end of the line. He put his arm around her shoulder, but she responded by putting her hand in his face and shaking her head, indicating that she couldn't talk to him.

"Rayna."

She ignored him.

"Rayna!"

His tone caught her attention that time, and she turned around to look at him, flustered.

"Hang on a sec, Buck. Deacon, they've got an idea about the next leg of the tour they want to tell me about."

Rayna turned away from Deacon again and continued talking. He stared at the back of her head, exasperation flooding through him.

"The tour, Ray? Seriously? That's what we had to get all fired up over, an' come runnin' down here about?"

She held her hand up to his face once more, motioning again for him to be quiet.

That was the last straw.

"God _damn it_, Rayna!" Deacon shouted, slapping his palm down on the counter. That startled Rayna, who whipped around to look at him, her eyes wide and her mouth open in astonishment. The half dozen shoppers in the store fell silent, staring curiously in their direction.

"You got all the time in the world to talk about the _fuckin'_ tour and you gotta do it right now? _Jesus Christ_!"

Rayna froze, staring at him and feeling the anger rise up from deep inside her.

"Hey! Don't you _talk_ to me like that, Deacon!"

Deacon puffed up his cheeks and exhaled audibly, as he so often did when he was angry. Then he shook his head again, his eyes burning into her, and turned abruptly on his heel and stalked out of the store.

Deacon? Deacon!" she called after him, but the wooden screen door was already slamming shut behind him.

Their argument raged out of control on the drive back to the cabin. Deacon shouted that he'd known all along they wouldn't be able to get through the weekend without her work intruding. Rayna shot back that he sounded almost disappointed that there wasn't an emergency, instead of being relieved. He told her that if she felt guilty about being with him, she shouldn't have come, and reminded her that this weekend had been her idea in the first place. Rayna sputtered back that he was out of line, and finally folded her arms, declaring that she wasn't about to discuss this - or anything - with him when he used that tone of voice with her.

When they got back to the cabin, he pulled up short and jumped out, slamming his door, and she did the same. They faced off in the driveway, glaring at each other. "Front door's unlocked," he spat out. Then he walked off, disappearing around the side of the cabin. She clenched her jaw, angry as hell, and started after him.

She'd taken only a few steps, however, before she stopped. This was the worst time to try and talk sense into him, she realized, when he was furious and in no mood to listen to reason. In the past, she would have followed him anyway, worried that he would head straight into a bar. But things were different now, and she wasn't sure that pursuing him was the best way to deal with him anymore.

She stood in the driveway for a few moments, thinking. Maybe it was best to leave him alone and let him work things out on his own, like he had done after he'd stormed out of Edgehill's CMA nominations party.

Eventually, Rayna turned and went inside, heaving a furious sigh as she entered the kitchen, put her cap and sunglasses by the back door and shook out her hair. At least the temperature had dropped as the weather had changed, and the cabin was cooler now. She looked out the expansive back windows, watching the dark clouds fill the sky over the pond as the storm closed in.

What Rayna really needed was a drink. A glass of wine, at the very least. But she hadn't packed any alcohol and she knew Deacon would have purged this place of temptation years earlier. He was fine around drinking – she'd seen him nursing club sodas at bars and parties often enough, after all - but somehow it hadn't felt right to bring liquor along on this weekend, to this place.

The cabin held so many memories for both of them that it almost felt haunted.

She dug around in the pantry for a few minutes before she turned up an ancient box of Lipton tea bags and some sugar. She rinsed out the red kettle on the stove and fixed herself a cup of tea, realizing suddenly that she was famished. They had not eaten the night before and, except for a cup of coffee and a piece of toast this morning, they hadn't had a meal today either.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the sandwiches and fruit she'd packed for their supper the previous evening, selecting chicken salad on wheat and an apple for herself and sitting down at the kitchen table to eat it. She looked out the window again and saw Deacon sitting on the edge of the wooden back porch, dangling his legs over the side, watching the Western sky as lightening tore across it and thunder rumbled low in the distance.

He must be hungry too, she realized, and she started to get up and take him a sandwich. Then she thought better of it. There was no telling what kind of mood he was in. Better to let him come to her in his own time.

Rayna stayed at the table, eating and sipping her tea, getting lost in her memories of this place. She kept her mind focused on the good times, blocking out the bad. It was something she'd become expert at, all those years ago, when dwelling on the negative would have made staying with him impossible. And she had wanted to stay with him more than anything.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she slowly became aware of his eyes on her. She looked up, realizing that the room was nearly dark and raindrops were pelting the windows. Deacon was leaning in the doorway to the den, watching her. He must have come in through the bedroom, she realized, when the rain had started. But she had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

She only knew that he had that sad, haunted look in his eyes, the look that always broke her heart.

"Rayna…"

Without a word, she got up and went to him, sliding her arms around his waist as she felt his strong arms close around her. She shut her eyes and held him close, resting her head on his shoulder. It took her a long while before she recognized the word he was whispering under his breath, over and over. Finally, she realized what he was saying: Her name.

It was the one thing he had always equated with love, and safety - and home.


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm so sorry, Ray. I overreacted," he said, his voice hollow.

Rayna pulled her head back and looked at him, still holding him tightly.

"Yeah, you think? We both did, babe. I'm sorry, too. I hate that we're fighting this weekend. "

"It's not your fault. You're worried about your kids, and you hate bein' away from 'em, is all. That's only natural. And here I am, takin' you away for days, just when you gotta get back out on the road next week. It's not fair, Ray - it's not fair to you or the girls..."

She reached up and laid her hand gently over his mouth.

"Stop. Please," she said, stepping back. She took his hand in hers and led him into the den, which was in near darkness by now. He flicked the light switch, but got no response.

"Power out?"

"Yeah, must be the storm; happens once in a while. They'll have it back up by mornin'."

Deacon turned and walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, there's a sandwich in the 'fridge for you if you're hungry," she called.

"Thanks."

Rayna heard him rummaging around in the pantry and pulling out drawers. He returned chewing on a turkey sandwich, carrying an armload of candles. He continued eating as he walked through the rooms setting out the candles and lighting them, so that by the time he was done, the little cabin was glowing softly in the midst of the dark night.

Rayna picked up a throw pillow from an arm chair and settled herself into a corner of the long, leather couch. She laid the pillow in her lap and patted it.

"C'mere," she said, looking up at him.

He hesitated, looking at her oddly.

"This place brings back a lot of memories, doesn't it, Ray?"

"It does. But I still love it."

He laughed, softly.

"I didn't think I was gonna get you to stay, that first time I brought you up here. Do you remember that?"

"'Course I do, Deacon. How could I forget?"

"I thought you were about ready to turn around and go home before you even set foot in this place."

"I was, sort of. If I'm honest, I'm not sure what scared me more – this place, or being alone in it with you."

"Well, I guess it wasn't as bad as all that. Was it?"

She smiled and reached out her hand to him.

"That weekend made me love you, Deacon. And I never stopped."

He took her outstretched palm and brought it to his mouth, kissing it softly. She patted the pillow on her lap again.

"C'mon, I wanna talk to you."

He sat down beside her, pulling his boots off, and then stretched out on his back, settling his head on the pillow with his right arm wrapped around her waist. She leaned down to kiss him, once and then twice, and then placed her hands on either side of his head, massaging his temples and running her fingers through his hair.

"Remember how you used to love this?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. This had been her way of soothing him, years ago, when he was sick to death with drink and regret. When he feared that the pounding in his head would drive him insane.

"I sure do. It was the only thing that helped on the worst days."

He looked up at her. Both of them had tears in their eyes.

"I missed you so much, all those years, darlin'. I used to come up here and think about you - about us."

"I missed you too, Deacon. But I'm here now." She kissed him again, longer this time. "I'm here."

They were quiet for a while, listening to the thunder, which was getting closer now, and the rain pounding down on the roof. He closed his eyes again as she rubbed his head and neck, pausing every once in a while to drop a kiss on his forehead. Finally she sighed and stared out the window into the storm.

"You were right, you know," she said, quietly. "I do feel guilty - being here with you and away from the girls. It's crazy, really: They're not babies anymore – and they're fine with Teddy. But I guess mothers can always find something to feel guilty about. I mean, much as I hate being away from them when I'm touring, when they were little and they came out on the road with me – with us, you remember-"

She looked down at him; he nodded.

"Well, back then I got to spend a lot more time with them than most working mothers do. And even now, when I'm home, I can help out at school and go on field trips, arrange my schedule around them. I'm really lucky. The moms who work 9-to-5 have a whole different set of things to feel guilty about. And even the stay-at-home moms find something they're doing wrong, something to beat themselves up about, I'm sure. It's nuts, the way we torture ourselves, when all we care about is doing right by our kids."

Deacon reached up his left hand and smoothed her hair behind her ears, running his fingers along her cheekbone. She looked down and met his gaze.

"Ray, I'm … I'm not a daddy, an' I never really wanted to be one. I know that was hard on you, before … but I guess I just never thought I could do the job justice."

Rayna sucked in her lower lip and averted her eyes, gazing out the window again while he spoke.

"But I do know one thing, and it's this: You're a wonderful mother. You got nothin' to feel guilty about. All anybody has to do is take one look at those girls and they can see what a great job you're doin'. They're amazing, Ray. And I love them. I really do."

She smiled down at him, her eyes shining with tears again.

"I know you do. And that … that means a lot to me, babe. You don't even know how much it means ..."

Her voice broke and she kissed him fiercely, surprising him by putting her arms around him and holding him tightly. When she sat up, she was wiping her cheeks.

"Hey, I know you don't want to hear this … but there was a reason Bucky called."

He sighed, then smiled, shaking his head.

"Okay, darlin', I might as well get used to this. Let's hear it - what's goin' on with the tour?"

"Well, it seems he and Tandy put their heads together last night and came up with a way for you to come out on the road with us, this next leg. If you want to, I mean."

He looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"If I _want to_? Whaddaya mean - I thought you weren't ready for us to go public."

"I'm not – not just yet. But their idea is to put you on the payroll - just not as my band leader."

"Huh?"

"How'd you like to join the tour as my personal assistant?"

He shook his head, laughing.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Ray?"

"Well, Bucky's always budgeted a PA for me on tour even though I've never hired one. It's standard language included in the contract, I guess. Anyway, he and Tandy got to talking about it and … they thought I might actually need one this time."

Deacon was looking up at her, completely confused. Rayna smiled and ran her fingers through the stubble on his chin.

"What do you think? Would you like to stay in my hotel room with me, and hang out in my dressing room with me, and take very, very good care of me for the next couple weeks?" she asked. "And when we get back, I'm going to talk to the girls and tell them about us. Then we won't have to do any more sneaking around. How's that sound?"

"That sounds fantastic. But what am I supposed to do, Ray, put on a disguise? It's not exactly like I can get on Juliette's plane without being recognized."

"Well, that's the thing. We won't fly on her plane. We'll go old school, on the bus with the guys. You know we can trust them – they're pros. Bucky'll come up with something to cover for why I'm not there, and it's not like Juliette will miss me, anyway. You'll have to keep out of sight backstage and in the hotels, but it's not for that long. And I figure it won't be too difficult, if I keep you real close," she said, smiling and kissing him again. "What do you think? Wanna come work for me again?"

"Hmmm … I dunno. The way I hear it, you can be awful demandin', Miss Jaymes."

"Well, I can tell you I am going to need a lot of assistance. Very_ personal_ assistance."

He pulled her down for another kiss.

"I'm not sure I can handle all that work. Maybe you better give me an audition right now, see if I'm … _up_ for the job?"

They laughed quietly, nose to nose by now.

"Oh, I'd say from personal experience that you're pretty much _up_ for any job, any time, babe," Rayna said, looking out the window again. "If you want to audition, though, how about giving me that underwater ... what'd you call it? ... acrobatics lesson? The one you promised me before?"

"What - skinny-dippin'? Right now? Ray, it's pourin' rain outside!"

"No, it's not. Look-"

Rayna motioned to the window and Deacon sat up, following her gaze. The storm clouds were scudding away across the night sky and the rain had stopped. A glorious full moon was just peeking out over the horizon.

"Well, would you look at that?" he asked, turning to sit beside her and putting his arm around her, pulling her close. "I believe I promised you moonlight, darlin', and there it is - right on schedule."

"Pretty impressive. But I still think you need to finish your audition."

You really wanna go down to the pond? I could carry you in, so your toes won't get nibbled. Not by the fishes, anyway."

"Will you carry me in nicely? No slinging me over your shoulder like a caveman?"

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers, kissing her.

"No caveman, I promise."

"No Buddy McWilliams?"

Deacon burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, Ray - you shoulda seen your face! And his face, when he could hear you, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out where you were!"

"It wasn't funny, Deacon."

"Darlin', that was the funniest goddamn thing I've seen in a long time. You gotta admit that."

She smiled, in spite of herself.

"You know, someday, I just might admit that was funny. Someday."

"Okay, so are you in? For the ... lesson, I mean?"

"Well, I'll try anything once, I guess. As long as you're there with me."

"I'm here with you, darlin'. I am always gonna be right here with you."

They paused, staring at each other, realizing that this was the closest they had come to talking about their future.

It wasn't much. But it would do, for now.

Rayna smiled and kissed him again.

"Of course I'm in. If you're with me, Deacon, I'm always going to be all in."

THE END

_A/N: Many thanks again to Rachel Wilder for beta-reading,__ and to all the readers who have encouraged me with their kindness and support. My thanks also go_ to the many fanfic challenge writers who are sharing their creativity and hard work with us this summer. If you are interested in writing for the August fanfic challenge, please PM me, Shiny Jewel or moonlight gardenias for details. 


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